


Circle, True Way, Terra Prime And The Dark Forest Theorem

by plotdog



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Conversations, Gen, Literature, Or not, Pre-Slash, can you see the hint, on station
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 23:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3787789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plotdog/pseuds/plotdog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak and Bashir talked in lunch time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circle, True Way, Terra Prime And The Dark Forest Theorem

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Season 2, between "Cardassians" and "The Wire".

There could always be a considerable line of people at lunch time, overflowing from the replimat to the Promenade. It used not to be Doctor Bashir’s concern, for his Infirmary is well opposite to the replimat, so he usually took his time and finished his meal in good time before this place was packed solid with the crowd. However, he came a bit late today—even the line had retired. He was already imagining how his friend would lecture on punctuality later.

On the way to their routine table, Doctor Bashir noticed the cardassian tailor, who was in a olivedrab, striped garment today while peering around. As soon as he caught sight of the doctor, Garak leaned his stretching neck with a bow of the head.

He didn’t get it wrong. No matter how long he delayed the lunch, Garak would wait till his arrival, as long as it’s before the clothes shop’s business hours. That kind of confidence made him feel rather guilty. From the replicator, Bashir carried the tray of his order to his seat.

“Ah, dear doctor,” Garak looked up to him. “I almost gave up the hope that you will come today!”

“Sorry, I’m late. But this moring, several badly injured patients were sent onto the station. We had a tough time in the infirmary. Had the situation been worse, I’d say goodbye to today’s lunch with you. ” Picking up the spoon, Bashir hesitated for a second, then tried to put on a leisurely manner, in case someone would dig at human’s crisis awareness behind the eager way of gulping food.

Garak rolled his eyes. “By your magic hand, doctor, I do wish these unfortunate people survived this accident, no matter what the cause was. ”

Bashir had just delivered a spoon of food into his mouth, not intending to care about Garak’s overelaboration at first, now with a blast of clearness in his mind instead. “Tell me Garak, can you guarantee that you had nothing to do with this accident?”

“Oh, come on,” Garak lifted his both hands into the air as if to show his innocence. “All the residents on Deep Space Nine had seen it! The stretcher hurriedly carried through the Promenade, the cokes and the holes on the runabout’s surface at the docking bay—even a humble tailor, like me, is capable of noticing something is happening. ” Hands returning to the blue porcelain teacup, Garak tilted his head to one side, staring at the doctor, then ask. “But for you, doctor, are you again, lavishing your exaggerate imagination, blaming me for any connection with the sabotage? ”

“Not at all, Garak.” Bashir snorted, then continued to fill the fish balls into his stomach. “On the contrary, it’s not about my imagination, but some people had already claimed the responsibility for the attack . ‘True Way’, are you familiar with that?”

Garak’s eyes dilated. “Now that I am reminded, it is possible that I have overheard about it somewhere—while mending lady’s skirts, of course. ”

Bashir shut his eyes and mouth, making it clear that he didn’t what to hear any of Garak’s nonsense with a frown. “They are cardassians! Cardassian terrorists! And you are—”

“—the one and only cardassian remained on this station.” Garak nodded. “So, it’s unavoidable for me to be suspected to have relations with those terrorists. As far as I can speculate, Constable Odo is on his way to questioning me, and Commander Sisko is going to take actions upon me, for the best of federation citizens.”

“Not like that!” Bashir opposed. “I mean, that’s unbelievable! Federation ships, under attack, at the cardassian-bajoran border! Weren’t they too desperate to lose tactics, they must ambush there very carefully, attack whenever a specific ship comes out—I have no idea which one is more horrible.”

“I’m so apologetic for people who had done all of this are cardassians, in spite of whether they are as cardassian as they claimed to be. You know, at a time like this, there are such a wide range of people and organizations who dare do something horrible, that not just a small percent of them are bajorans who would like to see cardassians take the blame… ”

“Garak!” The doctor put down his spoon with annoyance, then pick up his teacup, taking a sip, and thump it back heavily. “They are exclusive cardassians! For over a year, due to their aspects of pride, True Way had launched five attacks on federation ships, now it’s the sixth, and the first one that not cause irretrievable damages. This is not time for joking, Garak, people are dying!”

“Take it easy, doctor.” Garak spread his hands. “I was simply pointing out one possibility! Whoever the criminal is, it proves that any kind of behaviors that exclude other species are very, very abominable. ”

“Exactly.”

“If I don’t have hearing problems, doctor, was there somebody with righteous indignation, who had just criticized on cardassians for their exclusion, and classified their ‘exclusive’ nature as a vice that should be excluded?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Everytime quarreled with Garak, Bashir would be distraught by his undefeated sophistry, but he himself was not the giving-up type when it comes to debate. “It’s not a _cardassian_ vice, but a vice that shared among cardassians who are _xenophobic_ enough to attack every federation ships.”

“So, it’s xenophobia itself you do not like,” Garak nodded thoughtfully, “which is abandoned in the dark past by the noble federation citizens, along with many other inadvisable vices.”

“Abandoned? No no no, not a bit of it.” Bashir smelled the sour scent of Garak’s words. “Humans have maintained a positive attitude towards the outside world since the first contact with vulcans, treating them according to a series of standard protocols, except for those who came with hostility in the first place.”

An amused smile crept across Garak’s face. “Listen, listen! How typical a young Starfleet officer you are! They definitely printed the moral talking in all of your brains, long way back to times when you still study warp theories in the Academy. Tut, doctor, sometimes it feels like I hold out too much hope for you. ”

Bashir looked puzzled, staring at Garak. With one year’s experience of intercourse with this ‘plain, simple’ man, he could make sure that there is a trap set ahead, waiting for him. Sometimes he knew there’s a trap, but he couldn’t help but to jump down and took a look at what’s inside—possibly a surprise, besides the worst consequence is only to be jeered at. Teasing a curious mind with a riddle is the same as teasing the skin with a feather. 

As a result, he dropped the teacup and pushed the plate way, folding hands under his chin. “Perhaps you’d better enlighten me. As a man who had occasionally managed to crack cardassian military codes, you certainly know more about federation secrets on one occasion or another. As for me, I don’t mind broadening my horizon all the while.”

Garak’s expression said ‘please’, but his eyes revealed satisfaction. “Federation secrets? Doctor, you are falling into a wrong path of suspicion. What I’m going to refer to, is a well-known movement before your federation ever founded, despite the fact that it didn’t last long. However, the movement allowed us to give a glimpse of the well-hidden fear, deep down inside you humans’ heart. ”

“Which movement?”

“Terra Prime, if I refer correctly.”

 _Oh, here we go._ Garak brought up the name in all expect in Bashir. The xenophobic organization in mid 22nd century that convened a large number of followers, aiming at expelling the alien-aid groups, for example, vulcans, out of the planet and the solar system, appealed to develop the space-traveling technology on human’s own, and colonized radially from the so-called Terra Prime.

Such awkward history was rarely been mention of. Bashir had always recognized Garak as a man with wide range of knowledge, but he didn’t expect him to be knowledgeable in that field. Supposed himself in a expression well worth seeing, Bashir found Garak’s fixed gaze at him, the pale eyes shining, the corner of mouth betraying a sly smile.   

Certainly he could quote the evaluation of events from the history books. “ _The away team Captain Archer led foiled an attempt to damage the unborn federation. This xenophobic movement cautioned the world with its extreme aim and measures as a negative example, encouraging a broader mind on subjects of interstellar association  and integration for generations to come_ ”, but he didn’t want to bore Garak with ready-made answers.

“Well, I had read about it at the xenogenic class. The first human-vulcan hybrid in the world cultured in vitro.” he shrugged. “Though the medical experiment didn’t turn optimistic… I remember it’s their leader’s idea. You see, the same person who wanted to drive aliens out of the planet, proved that we humans are not so different from the aliens genetically. ”

Garak nodded slightly as a praise. “Ironically, wasn’t it? The first potential enemy of your federation only sowed the wind. What a pity, I assumed the noble federation morals were not as popular as those in nowadays. When the tide of xenophobia rose, not a single sightseer from the outworld dare wander alone after sunset.”

Tilting his head, the doctor bit his lower lip. “Uh huh, I guess somehow you persuaded me just now. Every civilization has its own shameful past records… But think about the circumstances of that time. ” He straightened his back again, clinging to the cup placed before his chest. “The exploration towards stars was just beginning. One fresh      light year deeper into the space is facing another completely unfamiliar territory. There’s no way to tell whether they are friends or foes when confront new species; what’s more, earth was weak at self-defence those days. The entire civilization could be leveled to the ground if we encountered a fatal enemy unfortunately. People who worried too much might take horrible measures, but all these worries weren’t come from nowhere. You cannot blame all the donkey acts on a single species, simply attributing to their nature. ”

“How dare I?”Garak waved his hand. “You are getting serious, doctor, exactly what I don’t what to see. It’s just a lunch table talk! I said it, the safest choice is to discuss about literature and holograms… Oh! ” The sparkles in his eyes set Bashir raising his own eyebrow. He had spent enough time with Dax playing with mind-controlled cards and trying the flavors of Klingon dishes to be infected by her particular way of arching the end of an eyebrow. He had to put it right someday.

“What comes up in your head again, Garak?” He raised the question cooperatively.

“Literature, my dear. Every time I failed toconstruct better grounds of arguments, they would line up and offer themselves up to me, to be quoted!”The cardassian tailor rolled his eyes and stretched the eyeridges, resuming the talk contendedly.

“As you referred, Terra Prime is a production in a special period of time. What if I say ,way back to pre-warp age, even humanity had only taken their first step into the universe, the hatred and exclusion towards the unknown power had already sprouted in human’s souls, then became a trend, as if it is an epidemic disease? There’s nothing resembles The Circle of Bajor or the Vulcan Isolationist Movement, but a fear come from pure illusion. If that cannot be considered as xenophobia, I will have no idea what the evaluation of these slight harassments should be, under the circumstance of cardassians’ withdrawal from Bajor not long ago.”

“Garak,” Bashir narrowed his eyes. “Whatever the story is, tell me. I don’t mind if it’s a long story, but I won’t be happy if you keep me guessing. ”

It seemed to satisfy Garak watching Bashir’s reaction. “Doctor, what a person full of patience and kindness you are, to waste your precious time on a useless, ordinary—”

“Waste my time? Maybe. Ordinary? Oh, that needs a further discussion.” At some point, the expression on Bashir’s face became provocative. “How long will we be playing this game? The real aim to remain on this station, the real reason to leave your home planet—how long will you keep it a secret from me? Do you find it amusing?” 

Garak replied at ease. “Believe me, doctor, someone will be amused. If I neither have a spoon on my forehead, nor any scale on my necksides, we won’t have this conversation right now. And you, the seeker after novelties and mysteries, will never interrogate a common old tailor with no intention to give up.”

“You know what,” Bashir kept up with him, “I doubt sometimes that what you really are is an innocent tailor, pretending to be a person with so many background stories, to lure me into an investigation—unconsciously gave offence to some important people that led to your exile, or the business opportunity at this traffic hub? ” Glancing at the enjoyment revolving around Garak, Bashir shook his head. “Back in the 19th century, there was a story written by a human author, which shares my concerns on the possibilities. ”

“I see. Then would you tell me about the story?”

“Of course. The story was set in a country named France, at time when people traveled in carriages. Men wore the neatly-pressed suit, and women wore heavy and complicated dresses.”

“That left me good first impression, aesthetically.” The chief tailor of Deep Space Nine said.

“Uh huh, in the era with the city boosted the growth of romances, a young man saw a mysterious lady afar off. The veil that hung down from the bounet covered half of her face, and she’s in a carriage passing by. He couldn’t stop himself from following her, until reached a private villa. ”

“Clearly, a stalker wouldn’t be blamed in that time. ”

“We may focus on his overmuch curiosity and adoration instead of moral condemnation of his behavior. He watched the mysterious lady driving into the villa. By the way, the villa itself was decorated in a mysterious style.”

“Ah, that tests my ability to composite a picture in my mind,” Garak interrupted. “The constructions all look the same on Cardassia Prime, even here, light years away, the facades of this station are of the identical touch of those in Cardassia City. To imagine a distinctive building, is out of my capacities.”

“I’m not asking you to imagine the building, Garak, just think about the curiosity running though his veins and scratching his guts, then you’d call—”

“—He stalked her again.”

"How do you know?”

“That’s quite obvious, isn’t it? He dug out her deepest secrets, the plot that endangered the entire France, even the entire humanity. So he threw away his personal feelings, chose her destruction rather than more people’s—as far as I leant from you human’s obsession over tragic heroics, he might die along with her. If I may say so, similar plots are regularly seen in the Shakespeare’s you lent me.”

“Shakespeare? Oh, no, what you described is a standard _cardassian_ novel, in which the love for an individual ought to be sacrificed for the goodness of the country!” Bashir kept shaking his head. “No, that’s not the story I’m telling about, this is just a twisted but light one… The young man followed her day by day, enjoying the way he observed the mysterious lady from a long distance. Instead of falling in love with her, we can say he fell in love with the feeling of mystique. But one day, the lady disappeared. No longer wearing her veils and riding her carriage and entering her villa, she just vanished. So our hero decided to take the risk of breaking the mystery he enjoyed—after all, he cared about her—walking straight to the gate of the villa, and rang the doorbell. ”

“The Romeo was going to be disappointed.”

“Yes, for the one who answered the door is an old housekeeper he never knew. ‘I am just a housekeeper. Would you like to rent the house? ’ The young man didn’t understand and asked, ’Where is the lady who frequently came here in a veil and a carriage?’ The housekeeper answered, ‘She was a renter.’”

Garak looked like as if he began to get Bashir’s point at last, not making a sound for a while.

“After begging for the lady’s address, the young man paid her a visit. The woman in front of him was not so different from any ordinary women he’d seen. Without any veil or carriage, she was only an ordinary woman. The woman who had no secrets.” Bashir locked on Garak’s eyes. “She told him, she rent the carriage and the villa to play mysterious. She loved the concept of having secrets, and the gazes of inquiry. She had to gave up the hobby till she no longer could afford it.”

“So it is the ending?”

“Yes.”

“Neither conspiracies nor secrets?”

“No.”

Garak clapped. “Now that you brought up the story, let me have a guess. Are you giving me an indication that I am the ‘mysterious lady’ in real life? ”

Bashir shrugged as an admission.

A smile emerged from Garak’s cheek. “What a honor for me, doctor. I never expected you to come up so many interesting theories… From my point of view, this is a story raised the question for yourself, not for me: what kind of person you hope me is? A spy, a butcher whose hands are contaminated by the blood of countless victims, evil enough to scare you away as soon as you look through all those criminal records; or a simple tailor, the one who is trying so hard to attract a bit of your attention that sets the smoke bombs one by one, as well as the one who has nothing left but vapidity when the smoke dissipates? Compared with those two options, a mysterious, esoteric enigma, filled with indeterminacy, will that please you more? Now, ask yourself, doctor, do you really want to make an option?”

Listening to his friends’ eloquent speeches, Bashir’s face was blank in the beginning, then relaxed into a helpless smile hidden behind the folded hands. “Garak, I feel that you have been and always been excellent at evading from questions.”

“The feeling is mutual, my dear doctor.”

Bashir picked up the spoon left beside the plate, looking down and stirring up the now cold soup. Eventually, he gave up the hope for the remained fish balls. He put the spoon back, then raised his head again. “Do you know, Garak, I often want to learn about each and every secrets, but if all the secrets and thoughts are presenting in front of me, I’m afraid it won’t be that interesting.”

The tailor pondered his words and forced a bitter smile, nodded. He genuinely hoped he hadn’t figured out Bashir’s subtexts.

“Now got back to our subject—I can’t believe that you get it off that far—you blamed human for their long-term xenophobia. How could it have anything to do with literature?”

“Ah, it was only a desultory reading. Once you complained that cardassian novels are all in the same key, and took the variety of your literatures as a positive example. I had to admit, that numerous aspects have been involved in your languages is quite astonishing, which happened to explain why you, the most human of all the humans, have such a power of imaging things. In spite of poetries, notes, epics and other familiar literary forms, I found a kind of works out of your vast treasure trove I had never seen before.”

“Hum?”

Garak drew back his neck. “Oh, it’s kind of awkward. As far as I know, they were considered as some light readings for recreation, until the day they were replaced by other budding media afterwards. Up to this day, there can’t be many writers willing to produce similar stories.”

Bashir shook his head. “Try me. I’m quite interested in the art works that lost in the history, like English spy fictions. Perhaps I had heard about that kind you mentioned.”

Consequently, Garak resumed. “If you insist, doctor. Long before your people enthusiastically playing their roles among the neighborhood, they had spent hundreds of years assuming what it would be like to travel among the stars. Cardassians had never experienced anything like that, for we invented and developed the warp drive within decades to deal with the planetary shortage of nature resources, skipping from traditional, ancient time to the age of astronavigation. But humans indulged the luck to take the long time to think through the consequences of contacting with the aliens—after reading some of the books, I had to sadly conclude that not all of your ancestors shared the optimism towards the future.”

“What’s the evidence?”

“Doctor, you have no idea, they made a habit to describe the aliens come down to earth as conquers. In the stories, the characters raised up against enemies to protect their home. Honestly, the love for their planet, the devotion and the sacrifice, made me, a reader from another time and another word, sigh with deep feelings. But penetrate to the essence of the story, I found the fundamental philosophy inside.” His eyes were filled with victory. “Which is, the universe is cold and fierce. All the federation ideals and the forgiveness lost their place before the prime aim to survive. In this respect, humans and cardassians shared even more common topics at that time.”

“They are just science fictions!” Bashir opposed, “Even in a utopian society, it’s ok to popularize a dystopia story. That’s normal, nobody would believe in an unrealistic philosophy only because they had read about it!”

Garak signed. “My dear, either you are still to naïve, or you hope too much and forgive too often to your ancestors, even others, like me. The Dark Forest Theorem, as is elaborated in one of these fictions, once well recognized among the population of its readers. This work projects the deep fear and self-humiliation inside humanity’s skull. If someone blamed it and other similar books for spurring simple doubts on aliens to exclusive organizations, like Terra Prime, which took actions to realize that philosophy, I won’t be over surprised.”

For the first time in his life, Bashir got in touch with such a desolate aspect in his own culture. He didn’t know whether should he admire Garak for his erudition, or refuse to obey and continue this argument. However, Garak didn’t left him much time to think about it. He brushed the front of his garment gently and stood up. “Look, look, doctor, it is such a pleasure to have conversation with you that I almost miss the opening time of the clothes shop!” He bade farewell with a small bow, walked away from the table to the replimat’s gate. 

Bashir felt like himself being left alone, with fish balls and questions not asked stuck in his stomach. “Garak!” He called out. The tailor turned around to look at him.

“What else can I do for you, doctor?”

“No, nothing at all.” In fact, even Bashir himself didn’t know why he called out just now. The cloud of questions wiped out clearly the exact time Garak turned around. “Well, same time, next week, here in the replimat, fine?”

“As long as you don’t let me wait for you again.” The grin at the corner of his mouth polite and tricky as always, Garak turned away and paced out of the replimat. 

Bashir sat still, making a face to the cold remains in his plate He couldn’t figure out enough facts of this exquisite man. He wouldn’t know out of the speech delivered just now, reasonable as it sounded, how much of it was truth. Garak liked the way of wearing a mysterious veil before him, while pulling out the stories from his pockets one after another. He didn’t find it wrong any way, and he enjoyed listening to stories. So long as Garak continued to tell, he would be glad to be listening to him all the way.  

 

 

-THE END-

 


End file.
